Chapter 52: Jealousy

The school festival was approaching.

As expected of an arts-focused school, the festival held more significance than just a simple event.

External visitors would come, it was connected to local promotion, and many alumni or industry professionals often stopped by.

That’s why the preparation period was quite long.

The entire school dedicated part of their class time to festival preparations, and teachers were somewhat involved as well.

Our class decided to run a simple café.

The indoor space allocation was quickly settled, and role assignments went smoothly.

I was put in charge of designing posters to promote our booth.

The festival activities for our class were important, but I couldn’t neglect what my club was preparing either.

Club activities were directly tied to the festival.

Each arts club took turns organizing the performance stage,
and the level was much higher than that of a typical high school festival.

It wasn’t just a simple performance—it was closer to a “stage art piece.”

Our club was also busy preparing for the stage.

A single performance like this could determine our club’s budget or evaluation.

Here, too, my role was to design the posters.

I had to visually express the concept of the performance,
incorporating the event date, location, and key images into promotional posters.

A single sheet of paper had to capture the mood and identity of the performance.

It couldn’t just be pretty—it had to mean something.

Information delivery, visual impact, layout flow.

Everything had to be considered and perfected.

My role was to do that well.

Right now, I was preparing with my class.

To be precise, it was for the café booth.

Even though I was in charge of poster design, that wasn’t all I did.

Whenever something needed to be done, I helped out.

Carrying boxes, moving lights, arranging tables.

I was used to moving around quietly.

It was more comfortable that way.

But lately, things were a little different.

“Dohyun, can you help me with this?”
“Hey, can I borrow your hand for a sec?”

More people were talking to me than before.

Sometimes, a simple “thanks” came my way after I moved a box.

At first, it was strange.

I had always been quiet, and because of that, I never stood out.

I didn’t want to be noticed, nor did I have any reason to be.

But a few days ago, news spread that I had advanced to the national finals of a photography competition.

System messages had popped up several times, too.

[Your presence has increased.]
[Interest from surrounding individuals has risen.]

Whispers when people looked at me,
eyes meeting mine once or twice before darting away.

And then,
attention coming in slightly unexpected ways.

“Kim Dohyun, you’re the one designing the posters, right?”

A girl from my class casually approached me.

It was Seo Jiyoon.

She had bright brown short hair and slightly downturned eyes, giving her a gentle and innocent impression.

Her voice was cautious, but there was a strangely relaxed air about her.

“You’ll make them pretty, right? I’m looking forward to it.”

She said that, gave a small smile, and walked away.

It was a short conversation, but it was something that wouldn’t have happened before.

I quietly stared at a brushstroke and thought.

…It’s definitely different.

Even without my intention, people were starting to see me a little differently.

I’m not sure yet if that’s a good thing.

After that, Seo Jiyoon started talking to me more often.

At first, I thought it was just because of the festival preparations.

Things like poster placement, color schemes, or whether the design matched the café booth’s vibe.

“Dohyun, don’t you think we should use the same design for the menu board?”
“We’re discussing costumes today—can you spare a moment, Dohyun?”

“Ah, this bread is delicious. Want to try a piece?”

She often struck up conversations,
sometimes laughed,
and every now and then, we’d bump into each other as if by accident.

……But strangely, we bumped into each other a lot.

Of course, it couldn’t have been on purpose.

It wasn’t particularly uncomfortable. Just… a slightly complicated feeling.

I focused back on the poster revisions I needed to finish.

Adjusting the color tones to be softer, resizing the text.

But even then, her words kept coming.

“Dohyun, are you always this quiet? It’s kinda cool in a mysterious way.”

“…?”

I looked up at her sudden remark.

Seo Jiyoon was smiling.

Not just any smile—one that crinkled the corners of her eyes.

“I like the quiet type.”

It wasn’t an expression I was used to, but I’d been seeing it a lot lately.

I gave a short nod and said, “I see.”

No other response came to mind.

At that moment—
A chill ran down my back.

I turned my head slightly.

Lee Jian was adjusting the lights from a distance.

But she wasn’t looking at the lights.

She was staring—
right at Seo Jiyoon,
or more precisely,
at Seo Jiyoon smiling beside me.

Her eyes narrowed slightly,
her expression unreadable.

……Something.

My shoulders felt oddly cold.

I shifted uncomfortably in my seat.

Lee Jian and I locked eyes.

She didn’t look away, nor did she smile.

Just,
for a moment.

She stared at me,
then turned her head away.

And as if nothing had happened,
she went back to checking the lights.

I blinked once, confused.

Was there really something wrong with the lights?

Or was it just… me overthinking things?

I wasn’t sure.

But my back,
felt strangely cold.

***

There were so many posters to put up that I’d been running back and forth across the schoolyard since morning.

My arms were full of tape and posters, and sweat was slowly trickling down my back.

Honestly, it was kind of annoying.

But then, someone approached me.

“Kim Dohyun!”

A familiar voice.

It was Seo Jiyoon.

“Want some help putting up the posters? It must be tough doing it alone~”

“I’m fine.”

I answered firmly,

but before I knew it, she was walking naturally beside me.

“Come on, since we’re in the same class, it’s better to prepare together. And honestly, watching you carry all that heavy stuff alone makes me feel kinda bad~”

It wasn’t like it was unpleasant, but…

to be honest, it was a bit much.

Walking together was fine,

but when she laughed and nudged my arm,

or when she deliberately brushed her hand against mine while offering to hold a poster—

each time, I subtly shifted away.

Even though it wasn’t noticeable enough to be caught,

Seo Jiyoon still seemed to hesitate for brief moments.

And then,

she’d smile as if nothing had happened and continue talking.

“I really like the design of this poster. Dohyun, you’ve got such great taste.”

“…Thanks.”

I replied simply, but then—

I felt eyes on me from afar.

Literally the kind of gaze that made the word “eyes” feel heavy and distinct.

I looked up.

Sure enough, it was Lee Jian.

She was watching us from the classroom window.

Tape was still in her hand,

as if she had been about to stick it somewhere but had frozen mid-motion.

But—

her hand wasn’t moving.

Instead,

her eyes were.

At me.

No, more precisely—at the space between me and Seo Jiyoon.

Where Jiyoon had rested her hand on my arm, closing the distance.

That narrow gap.

That was what Lee Jian was staring at.

Her brows were slightly lowered,

and her expression wasn’t playful like usual.

A little sharper,

a little colder.

But she didn’t let it show too much.

Still, I could tell.

This was definitely jealousy.

She stared for a long moment,

then narrowed her eyes and tilted her head slightly.

At that moment,

her pupils trembled ever so faintly.

And then—

quietly,

she started walking toward me.

Her steps weren’t faster than usual,
but they were firm.

“Dohyun.”

Naturally, she stopped in front of me and held out her hand.

“I’ll help you put up the posters.”

At her words, Seo Jiyun reacted.

“Uh, I was going to help—”

I blinked and handed a portion of the posters to Lee Jian.

I glanced at her cautiously.

She didn’t avoid my gaze.

Instead—
she stepped a little closer and brushed off Jiyun’s hand from my arm as if it were nothing.

“Jiyun, aren’t you supposed to be decorating the booth?”

With just that one remark,
Seo Jiyun’s expression turned微妙 (subtly strange).

“…Oh. Yeah, I should go.”

Then,
she left behind a brief smile and turned away.

I stood there, frozen.

Lee Jian held the posters in both hands
and quietly stared at me.

“What’s wrong?”

She tilted her head slightly.

“…What do you mean?”

“Your eyes got all narrow and weird.”

“That’s just how my eyes look.”

She let out a small sigh
and plopped down beside me.

Hugging the posters to her chest, she puffed out her cheeks.

“…Were you jealous?”

At my words, she flinched slightly.

Lee Jian didn’t say anything, only pressing her lips together tightly as she avoided my gaze.

With her head slightly turned, I could see her cheeks gradually turning red.

Unable to face me, she quietly fiddled with the corner of a poster.

“…No.”

Her voice was small.

There was a faint, almost imperceptible tremble in it.

Her expression was like a child caught hiding something—a mix of awkwardness and embarrassment.

“Really?”

When I teasingly asked again, her eyes wavered once more.

Her lips moved slightly before pressing tightly together again.

The way she was desperately trying to hide it was so cute that I felt the urge to tease her even more.

“…It’s really not.”

She muttered again, her voice tiny.

Her lips were pouting slightly.

Her eyebrows were slightly furrowed, and her cheeks were already bright red.

Anyone could tell she was bad at hiding it.

The poster in her hands crinkled from how tightly she was gripping it.

I deliberately stared straight into her eyes.

Not letting her look away, as if demanding she reveal all her emotions.

“If it’s really not… then I must’ve misunderstood.”

Her shoulders tensed slightly.

“…No, that’s not it…”

Finally, Lee Jian closed her eyes tightly and took a deep breath.

As if mustering up courage, she slowly opened her eyes again and forced her lips to part.

“…I was.”

Her voice was small but clear.

Her eyes met mine for a moment before darting back down, as if fleeing.

“I was jealous. Happy now?”

Once the words were out, her cheeks turned completely red.

Now making no effort to hide it, she even bowed her head deeply.

Her fingers nervously kept rubbing the edge of the poster.

I bit my lip to hold back a laugh.

That single admission of jealousy made my heart flutter like a tiny firework had gone off inside my chest.

“…Don’t laugh.”

She grumbled under her breath. But then she lifted her head and stared straight at me.

Her expression was so adorable, and this moment felt so perfect, that I couldn’t hold back my laughter anymore.

“Sorry. But… you’re just too cute.”

Her face turned even redder before she quickly turned away and muttered under her breath.

“…Idiot.”

My heart pounded even harder.

Lee Jian was seriously, painfully cute and lovable.